She Asks If I’d Like a Sandwich

I replied with a swift, yet polite, “no thanks.”

Logically, I couldn’t muster any other reasonable response. She was a stranger; and within the realm of possibility, within the realm of my ever infused mind matter, she could quite possibly have been a rapist or murderer. Heck, within that moment, she was the methamphetamine pusher with the penchant for death by poison, abuse by necrophilic rape and obliteration by garbage disposal.

That was not about to happen.

So I said no. No thanks.

I wondered shortly thereafter what sort of response this woman actually think she could receive. She’s driving down the road, her windows are open, my windows are open, and while we sit in our respective cars waiting for the light to turn green, she reaches out her hand with what looked like a hoagie.